


I Want You To Spit In My Face

by TerresDeBrume



Series: Get Back Up [7]
Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arguing, Bullying, Education, Gen, Mutant, Psychology, Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-20
Updated: 2011-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:35:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerresDeBrume/pseuds/TerresDeBrume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Charles Xavier rescues a student from anti-Mutant bullying by using some... surprising methods.</p><p>Set in a mixed-school context.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want You To Spit In My Face

The lockers banged under the impact of a skinny, violent-pink shoulder. Its owner promptly turned the same weird shade of orange sported by the school lockers and fell all the way to the floor, bright orange eyes fixed wide in fear on his aggressor, but hurriedly closed them again as a spit projectile collided with his nose, spreading disgusting liquid over his cheeks and eyelids.

 

Aaron Dubois was well known in the small world of George Washington High School, Salem. He was tall, broad-shouldered, rich, good-looking and more generally king of the school, with two or three mates from the basketball team constantly hovering behind him: freshman Luke Andrews didn’t stand a chance with his gangly, weirdly color-changing silhouette, and everybody in the hallway seemed to accept that.

Who, after all, cared if a young, inoffensive Mutant was bullied? It was his fault for being out as a Freak in the first place, and it’s not like there was anyone to witness the scene, after all. Not if Aaron didn’t want them to, which he very clearly didn’t.

 

It therefore came as a bit of a surprise when the headmaster’s gruff voice resounded in the crowded corridor with a vindictive: “What’s going on here?”

 

Most students stopped dead in their track, although Luke spotted Charlene Muñoz, popular Cheerleader and not-out Mutant, backing away from the crowd so as to avoid any kind of trouble. Not that he could blame her anyway, for principal Kelly seemed at a loss concerning what to do. As much as he disliked Mutants –he never really hid his preferences- he loved his post and the power it procured even more, so that he was now stuck hesitating between being an exemplar Principal –which required he punished one of his favorite student- or indulging in his dislike of Mutants –thus risking the ire of a far too big chunk of the school board.

In Luke’s eyes, both solutions sounded dreadful but, as he reminded himself, at least Principal Stryker was gone –his older sister Lucie had had to deal with him for all her years of high school, and he’d gone out of his way to make her life as miserable as he possibly could. In the end, though, Luke rather preferred the second option: if Principal Kelly punished Dubois now, that meant future retaliation and much more bruising… not so much of a winning trade, if you asked him.

 

Things changed again, though, when a younger, softer voice intervened with an almost curious tone.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

Professor Xavier was the new Philosophy teacher. Luke didn’t have any class with him, but he knew from friends and friends of friends’ that he was much more appreciated than professor Bedbeiger, whom he’d replaced mid-term after a lethal heart attack. Professor Xavier was, from what Luke had heard, a calm teacher, who didn’t raise his voice often, mostly because he managed to interest his students effortlessly, thus sparing himself the need to reprimand them for excessive chattering. Though he seemed friendly enough, it often looked like he was keeping a slight distance with the rest of the Teachers, and he hadn’t yet had any occasion to make his politic on Mutant publicly clear –there were rumors that the topic had come up between him and Professor Lehnsherr, who taught mechanics, but then again there were also rumors that they shot more than friendly looks to each others, and others that said professor Xavier was a runaway murderer, or a doomed romantic trying to escape the memories of his _bien aimée_ ’s tragic death, so that it was a bit hard distinguishing truths from gossips.

 

Still, right now, he was Luke’s best chance, and he could feel his throat clench in painful hope.

 

“Nothing sir,” Aaron said, cool as a cucumber, “we were just having fun, weren’t we Andrews?”

 

Professor Xavier looked at Luke with a raised eyebrow, and the boy shook his head minutely, still frightened by Dubois and his mates –he’d heard too much horror stories about kids being beaten to a pulp because they were different not to be terrified each time Aaron or one of his friends entered his field of vision.

 

“Apparently,” Xavier said, nodding to Luke’s spit-covered face, “our notions of ‘fun’ differ greatly. Or did things change so much since I was your age that spitting in someone’s face is now a sign of camaraderie?”

“But Prof’ Xavier, he’s a Freak anyways,” Aaron protested. “You’ve seen his skin: he’s a Mutant. ’S no more than he deserves.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Dubois answered cheerfully, obviously missing the quietly threatening tone of Professor Xavier’s voice.

 

Tense murmurs floated in the air as the students gazed between Aaron and the new teacher, whose back was ramrod straight. Kelly didn’t say a word, probably waiting to see where the discussion would go and calculating how he could make it work in his favor.

 

“So according to you,” Professor Xavier pressed, “a Mutant is only worth a spit in the face?”

“Yeah.”

“Nevermind their gender, their age or their profession?” Professor Xavier insisted.

“Uh… yeah,” Dubois answered, unsure of the direction the discussion seemed to be heading to.

“Well then,” Xavier said, gesturing at himself, “why don’t you go ahead?”

 

The soft noise of chatter stopped abruptly, and it seemed the whole hallway was holding its breath. Even the walls felt somehow silent and wary, as though trying to process the teacher’s words along with everyone else. Eventually, after a long and extremely uncomfortable silence, Aaron spoke.

 

“Uh… what?”

“According to you, Mutants don’t deserve anything else than being spat at. I have always been partial to going to the full length of one’s beliefs. You have already bestowed your judgment onto Mr. Andrews here, but I am a Mutant as well; in view of which I am now asking you to apply your reasoning to myself.”

“What?”

“Mr. Dubois, I want you to spit in my face.”

 

Aaron’s face would have been very comical if not for the fact that Luke had absolutely no idea where this was going, and he was starting to feel horribly ill at ease for Professor Xavier, possibly even worried. Was he really crazy enough to ask that of a student?

 

“ _Are you crazy_?” Aaron voiced, several notches higher than usual, “I can’t do that, you’re a teacher!”

“Well, you yourself agreed that neither age nor profession mattered when it came to dealing with Mutants, you shouldn’t be bothered by the idea.”

“But….”

“Mr. Dubois, as the one requesting that you do the spitting, I can assure you that no consequence will come of this. Now spit.”

“I’d rather go in detention, really, this is –I just –please, don’t make me….”

“Oh no,” Professor Xavier warned with a stern look, “you do _not_ get to back out of this. Now straighten up and _spit_.”

 

There was something rather fantastic in seeing this innocent, innocuous looking man boring his gaze into a guy a head taller and twice as large as him, whose face was covered in ugly red blotches –Aaron looked like he’d been mauled by a rabid tomato. He shuffled on his feet uncertainly for several more minutes, but Professor Xavier’s gaze never wavered –Luke was certain he hadn’t even blinked- and, eventually, Aaron took a deep breath, scrunched his eyes closed and spat half-heartedly at the teacher. The saliva projectile landed straight between Professor Xavier’s eyebrows, but the latter barely flinched.

 

“Now tell me, Aaron,” he said without bothering to remove the saliva from his face, “how did that feel?”

 

Aaron looked down at his feet while his friends and the rest of the school stared at him. He mumbled something unintelligible, and Professor Xavier’s gaze hardened.

 

“Let me take a wild guess,” he said, handsome face closed off in an obvious display of unease, “you feel wrong. Dirty. Humiliated in front of the whole school. Am I off the mark?”

 

Aaron slowly, minutely shook his head.

 

“Now tell me, Aaron, why would you be ashamed to spit in my face and yet feel it is acceptable to do so to your schoolmates? Because let me tell you, this isn’t.” He let his word sink in, then insisted prodded on: “Look at me, Aaron.” The boy obeyed slowly, as though his blush weighed a ton. “This feels horrible, doesn’t it?”

 

Aaron nodded.

 

“I want you to look at me very carefully now, Mr. Dubois. I want you to look, and to remember, and next time you feel like spitting at someone’s face, I want you to remember how you feel right now, how small and unworthy you feel, and I want you to remember that it is ten times _worse_ for the person who is on the receiving end. Do I make myself clear?”

 

Aaron nodded again, his whole head an unfitting crimson under his ginger hair, and then promptly returned his gaze to his feet.

 

“Good.” Professor Xavier said, still tense. “Do know that I will notify your parents myself, and that I will _not_ hesitate to put you in detention for the rest of the school year should you feel like indulging in face-spitting _ever_ again. Now you’d better hurry to your next period, the bell rang five minutes ago.” He waited until Aaron left the wide circle left by the students around them, before he added: “that goes for _all_ of you.”

 

Only when most of the kids were gone did he pick an embroidered handkerchief from his old-fashioned jacket and wiped Aaron’s saliva from his face. Luke quickly used his sleeve for the same purpose, disgustingly noticing that part of Aaron’s ‘gift’ had already dried and that he would have to scratch it off.

He pulled himself to his feet, only to come face to face with professor Lehnsherr, broad shoulders tense as a whip under his leather jacket and dark eyes alight with fury.

 

“Charles, are you alright?”

 

He got a very clear ‘what does it look like’ kind of stare, and he let out a sort half-grunt, half-sigh before he clasped a hand over professor Xavier’s shoulder. The Philosophy teacher leaned into the touch, and Luke felt himself blush with the feeling that he wasn’t supposed to have seen that. The two teachers stood there for a while, wordless but somehow managing to conduct a whole conversation, until Luke _had_ to clear his throat to avoid getting even more embarrassed.

 

“Hum… thank you,” he said, ears burning. “I’m not sure Principal Kelly would have done much for me there.”

 

Before Luke had enough time to fully realize what he’d just said and to whom, professor Lehnsherr let out a sharp, bark-like humorless laugh.

 

“Principal Kelly’s an outright bastard,” he snapped.

“Don’t swear in front of the kids,” professor Xavier admonished softly.

“It’s not swearing if I’m only telling the truth.”

“Erik…”

“No, Charles, you can’t ask me to condone what just happened! There needs to be stricter discipline at this school.”

“Dubois has been taken care of,” professor Xavier assured, “I promise he’s not going to try anything like that again anytime soon.”

“That’s not the point! You shouldn’t even have had to do this! Charles, this stupid son of a….”

“E _nough_ , Erik!” Only when it stopped did Luke notice that the lockers had been rattling for most of the teachers’ conversation. “It is over now, and arguing this over and over isn’t going to do anyone any good.”

“I will make this kid’s life a misery.”

“You will do nothing of the sort, Erik. _Please_.”

 

Professor Lehnsherr looked intensely at his colleague’s eyes and, once again, Luke felt as though he were intruding on something deeply intimate and especially private. Thankfully, the unspoken conversation was shorter this time, and when it ended, professor Lehnsherr sighed deeply and then left abruptly, brisk pace resounding against the walls of the now empty corridor.

 

“Come on Luke,” professor Xavier sighed after a pause, his left hand softly massaging his temple, “I’ll walk you to you next class.”

 

They made their way silently to Luke’s Spanish class, and professor Xavier was ready to go back to his office, when Luke blurted out the question that had been nagging at him since the teacher’s intervention:

 

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Why did you ask him to spit in your face? You didn’t have to be humiliated like that, you could have just put him in detention or something.”

“Yes, I could have,” professor Xavier agreed. “Do you think it would have helped?”

“Uh… no, not really.” Aaron had a way to get out of detention easily, anyway –everybody knew his father was a generous donator of the school, and therefore used to having his way with Principal Kelly.

“While my method –although quite uncomfortable, I’ll readily admit- will ensure that he won’t do anything of the sort for a long while, if ever. I strongly disapprove of violence or gratuitous harshness, but I also tend to prefer efficient solutions to half-hearted attempts at protecting people. If today saves you a whole year of bullying from him, or even just alleviates whatever burden he could have made you bear, then it is worth it.”

 

He started to walk away, but Luke called out after him once more:

 

“Professor!”

“Yes?”

“You’re a telepath, right?” Xavier nodded with a polite smile, and Luke asked: “did you….” He made a vague gesture toward his head, and the teacher’s smile evolved into a full-blown grin.

“If you bother looking through my file, you’ll find that I have an impressively high IQ _and_ a Psychology degree,” Xavier said with shameless glee. “Plus, as you may have suspected it, I had to confront my own share of ignorantly offensive people while growing up, not all of them being Humans. I hardly need to use my ability to deal with a bully.”

 

And with that, Professor Xavier turned away completely, and Luke was left very grateful but dumbfounded, wondering just how much defiance Charles Xavier must have faced not to have been afraid of professor Lehnsherr’s quick temper and locker-rattling abilities.

 

(That, and also whether taking philosophy would be a good idea.)


End file.
